When Lobo rode up to the Davis ranch, Rachel felt a tremor, as if the very earth had opened. He was the wolf hunter they needed, and he seemed as primitive as the wild creature he tracked -- a rugged wanderer whose home was the wide open spaces and whose secrets were hidden behind his eyes. Burying the memories of her late husband forever, Rachel hungered only for Lobo's touch. But she had also heard the legend of the wolf who walked as a human, and she wondered if Lobo was more than just a man. The ranch-hands respected him, her little boy adored him, and yet Rachel sensed that there would come a final day of reckoning between hunter and hunted -- and a night when she would know the glorious rapture of Lobo's heaven-sent love . . .